


Love Hit Us Like a Train Off a Track

by compassionatecocoa



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:41:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compassionatecocoa/pseuds/compassionatecocoa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is sick and tired of being ignored. He's having the worst day, and he decides it's high time he stands up to Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Hit Us Like a Train Off a Track

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is extremely angsty, and I just had a lot of feels I needed to get out, okay? My first posted Sterek fic. Hope you enjoy!

Stiles was used to being stood up by Scott. Ever since he’d met Allison, Stiles had become accustomed to the text he would receive just before their scheduled hang-out time:

 

**can’t hang tonight man, allison wants to see that new leonardo dicaprio movie. rain check?**

 

But even though Stiles had grown a familiarity to this feeling of exclusion, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

 

**it’s fine, man, tell allison i miss her.**

 

And that would be it. Scott wouldn’t even take the time to reply with a “Will do!” or a “Thanks for being so understanding, Stiles, you’re the best friend in the entire world!” Quite frankly, it left Stiles feeling pretty bummed out. He managed, though, he spent what would’ve been he and Scott’s bro time doing very productive things like researching supernatural creatures’ strengths and weaknesses and, yes, occasionally masturbating out of sheer boredom and loneliness. But, usually he was able to just move past it.

 

Unfortunately, this particular night was going horribly for Stiles. Right after he’d received Scott’s text, his father decided to approach him about his injuries from the last pack mission. He questioned him like one of the criminals he interrogated every day. But, Stiles didn’t have any answers.

 

“Stiles, I just want to know why you’re getting hurt. I’m the sheriff of this town, did you think I wouldn’t notice that you keep coming home with fresh cuts and bruises?” There was an edge of desperation in his voice, tinged with something that pulled on Stiles’ heart, something he couldn’t quite give a name.

  
“Dad, you don’t need to worry about me. I promise I’m not doing anything illegal, and I promise-”

  
His father cut him off with the rise of his hand. “I’m sick of your promises, Stiles. You promise me that you’ll keep yourself out of danger, but you run straight into it every time. And now this? Don’t you realize what it’d do to me if I lost you?”

 

“Dad-” Stiles had a horrible taste of guilt in his mouth. It made him want to puke for days.

 

“Enough, Stiles. I don’t wanna hear it. You’re grounded.” He sounded truly hurt, like he knew Stiles would never tell him the truth, that Stiles would just lie to him again. 

“But, Dad-!” He wanted to tell him everything. But, he _couldn’t_. That’s what he was trying to explain. His father just didn’t want to listen.

 

“No but’s, Stiles. If I have to lock you up here to keep from losing you like I lost your mother, I-” Stiles breath hitched and his heart stopped. His father gave him a heartbroken look before grabbing his coat and storming out of the house. Stiles stood there for a while after, gaping as silent tears littered themselves onto his cheeks, accompanying the vast array of freckles that covered them, signs of all the time he’d spent in the sun as a child, time he’d spent with his mother.

 

He felt his throat start closing up and his vision begin to blur. He could feel the panic crawling its way into his heart. He closed his eyes and imagined the panic like a wolf, big and black with dangerous, red eyes. It licked its fangs and sauntered towards him, ready to pounce. He couldn’t outrun his demons, not when they were so much stronger than he was, not while he was so weak.

 

Suddenly, his phone buzzed, pulling him out of his spell.

 

**we need to talk. can you meet me out by the tracks?**

 

Stiles knew exactly who it was without even looking at the ID. He and Derek had been meeting at the train tracks out by the edge of the woods for a couple of weeks. Usually, he’d be alarmed by the use of the phrase “we need to talk”, but when he read the text, he realized just what he needed to do to never feel this way again. His father would never have to see him hurt again.

 

**i’m on my way**

 

He grabbed his red hoodie and his keys off the coat hook by the door before stepping into the brisk autumn air. It was the day before Halloween. He wished goblins and ghouls scared him the way they did when he was a child, but no. Now all he was scared of was being a liability and getting in the way.

 

His heater was broken in his jeep, so the ride to the tracks was torture. His fingers were nearly frozen entirely when he finally made it to the clearing. He probably should’ve brought a bigger coat or maybe some gloves, but Stiles was always better at having a plan for everybody else, not for himself.

 

Derek was on him before he’d even closed his car door, “Why didn’t you bring a bigger coat? Do you want to die of hypothermia?” Stiles snorted at him.

 

“Please, if anything’s gonna take me out, it’ll be you.” Derek just glared at him in that way he always did when he knew Stiles was trying to make a joke, but didn’t find it funny. Or maybe he did and that’s why he was glaring. Maybe he hated the way Stiles always tried to ruin his world record of “most days without smiling”. Stiles didn’t really want to think too far into it, Derek was a very complex work of art, very up for interpretation. “So, I have something I need to talk to you about, too, but you go first. What did you want to talk about?” he asked in a chipper tone.

“I talked to Deaton about something today and it involves you, but I’m not quite sure how to explain it.” Stiles wasn’t exactly sure how to chew on that.

 

“Well, I could ask you questions, and you could answer them. We could meet halfway if that would help.” Derek smirked at him, but nodded. He almost looked... nervous? That couldn’t be right. Derek had no reason to be nervous around Stiles because Stiles posed absolutely no threat to him in any way. He continued, “Okay, well, did you go to him or did he come to you?”

 

“I went to him. I’ve been... noticing things lately that I thought seemed like... something I’d heard a myth about once and I needed to know if my hunch was right, so...” Stiles put his hand up to stop him. What was he talking about? Did he think Stiles was some sort of mythological creature? Because that would be so fucking cool!

 

“Wait, wait, wait. So, you noticed something strange about me, and it reminded you of something you once heard from someone in a story or a myth, and you decided to go to Deaton about it rather than letting me know first? What the _hell_ , man. I thought we were closer than that!” Derek gave him a grated look and Stiles took that as his cue to keep going, “Do I have mystical powers? Am I secretly a centaur? Give me a hint or something, Derek!” Derek glared at him like he had pissed on everything he holds dear. What was his problem?

 

“Just forget it, okay? It’s not important.” And no, Stiles was not having any of that bullshit.

 

“What the fuck do you mean it’s not important? Do I have the word “dumbass” tattooed on my forehead? You wouldn’t have gone to Deaton about it if it didn’t matter. And if it concerns me, then I think I have a right to know, Derek! Just fucking talk to me-!”

 

“Enough, Stiles!” Stiles started fuming. He’d had enough of people ignoring him for one night.

 

“No, fuck you, Derek! You don’t get to play with my life! I’m not your fucking toy, okay? I’m nothing but a useless human, and yet every day you find some new way to use me. Scott ignores me, you treat me like shit, and my father doesn’t trust me anymore! I’m sick of being everyone’s punching bag just because I’m weaker than everyone else.” Derek wasn’t moving, he looked absolutely awed by Stiles. “I’m not one of your little werewolf pups that’ll follow you around and do your chores for you, Derek. I’m a regular human being, who cares enough to risk his own life just by spending time with you, let alone helping you solve supernatural crimes! So, you can take your “enough” and shove it up your werewolf ass, Derek!” By the time Stiles was done, hot tears had welled in his eyes. They spilled over, further humiliating him. He didn’t touch them, though. He wanted Derek to know that he wasn’t as weak as he seemed.

 

If only.

 

He crumpled to the ground in a heap of tears and hopelessness. The only thing that brought him back from his second almost panic attack of the night was Derek’s hand on his arm. Derek helped him find his feet again, and pressed him against the side of his jeep. “You’re not weak, Stiles. And, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way.” Stiles ran his sleeve over his face, he was sure he looked horrible, but Derek was close to him, close enough for Stiles to feel his chest move with breath against his own. “You’re far more extraordinary than you give yourself credit for, Stiles.” Stiles laughed darkly. “No, really, Stiles. I know I don’t say it enough or at all, really, but we would all be dead if not for you. You may be human, but-”

 

“I want you to bite me, Derek.”

 

Even Stiles could hear Derek’s heart stop.

 

Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes and saw a lot of things: fear, hurt, confusion. But, mostly, he saw anger. Derek being angry only pissed Stiles off more, though. Why did Derek get to be upset that Stiles wasn’t happy with himself? Who did Derek think he was?

 

“No.”

 

“It’s my choice, Derek! You don’t get to make it for me, and-!”

 

Derek grabbed Stiles by his shirt and pressed himself hard against Stiles’ slender frame, “I said no.”

 

Stiles was having none of it. He threw Derek off of him with all his might, and before Derek could come back he swung a furious punch that landed right on Derek’s perfect jaw. Derek fell back a little bit, but was otherwise unaffected. But, Stiles didn’t stop. He threw punch after punch, eventually getting Derek to the ground, straddling him, refusing to let him escape. Or maybe Derek just wasn’t trying, but either way, Stiles refused to stop. He kept hitting Derek as hard as he could, but it didn’t help at all. It didn’t chase away the horrible self-hatred that sat on the back of his tongue and gagged him. It didn’t dispel the guilt that nested in his heart when he thought about his father. It didn’t keep him from realizing that he wasn’t attacking Derek because he hated him.

 

He was attacking Derek because he loved him.

 

Because somewhere along the way, he found something in Derek that he couldn’t find in anyone else; not in Scott, not in Lydia, not in anyone. Only Derek.

 

Because somewhere along the way, Derek had rooted himself in Stiles’ soul.

 

Because Derek was the only one who valued Stiles the way no one else would.

 

And Derek loved him for that very same reason.

 

Stiles relentless fighting finally stopped with an abrupt gasp.

 

Derek’s fully healed face looked up at Stiles, no anger, no hurt. Only understanding.

 

Understanding. Acceptance.

 

Love.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles said.

 

“Tell you what?” Derek asked. Stiles didn’t like when Derek played dumb. It always meant that he was keeping something from Stiles.

 

“Don’t play dumb with me, you asshole. Why didn’t you tell me that we were mates?” Derek froze.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Stiles, but-” Stiles slapped him and Derek grabbed his wrists, quickly switching their positions in a fancy combat move that Stiles would never be able to execute. Derek had Stiles pinned, and Stiles knew he was fighting a battle he could never win.

 

“You’ll never admit it because you’re scared, Derek. You’re scared of what it means for me. You’re scared because you don’t want me to get hurt. I understand, Derek, I do. But, you have to understand-”

 

“I don’t have to understand anything, Stiles. We aren’t mates, and I’m not going to bite you, so you should just... just go.” Derek looked utterly broken. Stiles finally gets him to show some emotion and it has to be sadness? Of fucking course.

 

But, Stiles knew that he couldn’t change things. Not tonight, at least. So he shoved Derek off of him, who wouldn’t even look at him, and started to walk away.

 

Suddenly, he heard a familiar sound. The whistle of a train. And he knew just what to do.

 

“So, I mean nothing to you, then?” Stiles asked, but it really didn’t sound like a question.

 

Derek looked up from his frozen position on the ground with eyes that looked so weary it made Stiles want to cry. “Of course you, do, Stiles. I just... it’s not-”

 

“It’s not you, it’s me, right? Please, Derek, I’m sick of the games. You don’t care about me at all, do you? I’m just the kid who sometimes saves your ass. I’m just a convenience, aren’t I?” Stiles didn’t think Derek could’ve looked more heartbroken, but he had been wrong. Derek quickly got to his feet, reaching out to Stiles. Stiles backed away. “Don’t touch me, Derek. I get it. And, I don’t blame you for not wanting me. I’m nothing but pale skin and fragile bone, and you need more than that. I totally get it. I think I’ve known for a while how worthless I am. I was just hoping you could help me fix that.” You know, for being part of his plan, Stiles couldn’t help but feel like his words were true. Derek looked like he had a lot he wanted to say, but no words came out. He just stared at Stiles like he’d grown another head. He stared at Stiles like he’d kicked his puppy and laughed about it. Stiles walked out to the middle of the tracks and turned the direction of the oncoming train. Even if Derek decided not to save him, at least he’d be dead. “I know you hear the train coming, Derek. So, I’m giving you a choice. Either you let me die because you don’t need me, or you save me because you do. And I hope you realize that by “need me” I mean “love me”. I hope you realize that I’m asking if you love me, Derek. Because I love you. And if you don’t love me, then death doesn’t seem so bad.” Derek didn’t move, but he finally remembered how to use his words.

 

“Stiles, this isn’t funny.”

 

“And I’m not joking.” The train was getting closer.

 

“Please don’t make me save you when you’re strong enough to save yourself.”

 

“That’s what you don’t get, Derek. This is what we do. I save you and you save me because even though we’re strong, sometimes we get lost in the tide. Sometimes, you get paralyzed by a giant, murderous lizard and sometimes, so do I. Sometimes, I think about my mom and sometimes, you think about the fire. But, I’ll always be there to hold you up, Derek. So long as you’re willing to hold me, too.” Stiles could see the light of the train. It shone on Derek’s face and highlighted his face in ways that twisted Stiles up inside. Stiles could see the pain in Derek’s eyes, but he knew that this was important. This needed to be done. Or Derek would never change. Derek would never get better.

 

For a moment, Stiles actually thought Derek was going to let him die. But, just before the train could run him over and turn his fragile, human bones to dust, Derek tackled Stiles to the ground on the other side of the tracks. Stiles heart was racing at the speed of light, and Derek’s head was resting right on it. He was listening to it, holding onto it like a lifeline.

 

Stiles began to laugh. He laughed like a child, a crazy, currently-getting-crushed-by-a-werewolf child. “Get off of me, you weigh a ton.” But, Derek didn’t move. He kept his ear firmly placed on Stiles’ chest, and Stiles’ heart fluttered at the notion.

 

When their heavy breathing quieted, Stiles heard something that made him want to throw up rainbows. Derek Hale was _purring_. Stiles giggled again and placed his hand in Derek’s hair, massaging his scalp with his fingertips. After a few blissful moments, Derek lifted himself, bracing his arms on either side of Stiles’ face. “Don’t ever do anything like that again. Or I swear, I will-”

 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll rip my throat out with your teeth, I got it.” Derek’s glare got stronger and Stiles squirmed underneath it. “Stop! It burns us!”

 

“I can’t believe you’re making Lord of the Rings jokes right now.” Stiles was honestly just impressed that Derek caught the reference. “I’m serious, Stiles. You have no idea what losing a mate can do to a werewolf and-” But, he didn’t have time to finish before Stiles had reached his lips up to Derek’s. It was sloppy at first, but not in a bad way, in a drunken first kiss kind of way. Stiles let out a whimper and Derek actually shivered. Maybe it was from the cold weather, but Stiles likes to think it was because of his incredible kissing abilities.

 

Derek opened up for Stiles, and Stiles took a chance at sucking on Derek’s tongue and tugging on his bottom lip. Derek didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the moans that were jumping from his throat seemed to suggest quite the opposite. Derek worked his mouth onto Stiles’ neck and simply attacked it with his tongue. “Dude! No hickey’s or my Dad will-” and then Derek started doing this thing with his mouth just below Stiles’ ear lobe that had him reduced to small little whines. “Please don’t ever stop what you’re doing.” Derek huffed a laugh and Stiles’ mind was boggled. “Did you just laugh?”

 

“You had to ruin it, didn’t you?” And then Derek did something that Stiles was sure he probably hated: he absolutely, 100% colgate _smiled_. Stiles heart could hardly take it.

 

“Wow, you should smile all the time. It’s a good look on you.” Derek rolled his eyes and went back to work on Stiles’ neck.

 

Stiles was very upset when he stopped to ask him, “So, does this mean you don’t want the bite anymore? Because I promise you’ll never convince me to bite you.” Stiles considered this. When he’d first arrived, getting the bite had seemed like the only solution to all of his problems. But, he imagined it was a lot like driving while in a heightened emotional state; you’re a lot more likely to make stupid decisions.

 

“No, I don’t want the bite, anymore.” Derek smiled. “I only want you.”

 

Derek stared at Stiles. “I love you,” he said.

 

Stiles brain processed for a moment, but short-circuited halfway through. “I’m sorry, what?”

 

“You heard me, dumbass. I love you. And I promise that I’ll never let you doubt yourself again, okay?” Stiles heart stopped.

 

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” he asked warily.

 

“By reminding you every day just how lucky I am, how lucky we _all_ are, to have a hero like you.”

 

And that? Well, that sounded pretty good to Stiles.


End file.
